


Stardust, Volume I

by hellamybellamy



Category: Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, Deaths, Drama, F/F, F/M, Gore, Horror, Love, Romance, Twilight References
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2020-12-24 04:47:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21093635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellamybellamy/pseuds/hellamybellamy
Summary: Madeline Swan loves her life. She loves her father. When Bella comes back in town, Maddie is excited to get to know her big sister—but she's shocked to find Bella wants nothing to do with her, or Charlie, or Forks itself. The only thing that seems to draw her in is the elusive, pale-faced Edward Cullen, and with him comes trouble, and a family of beautiful strangers who feel less than human.OC/?





	1. Chapter I: A little more than kin,

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight! This does not belong to me! I own Maddie, but that's about it.

|TROUBLE in PARADISE| 

Chapter I ; A little more than kin,

“A little more than kin,  
and less than kind.”

Hamlet | Act I, Scene II  
_William Shakespeare_

* * *

**WHEN I WAS A LITTLE KID,** I used to believe in wishing on stars. And if I had to guess, I’d say I spent at least three nights a week looking out my window and wishing. Wishing on shooting stars was the true practice, the one that actually worked, but I never learned it. We didn’t have access to any books or browsers. I came up with one of my own. I’d always take the brightest star I saw—I would name it whatever I wanted—then I’d sit and I’d wish on it. I wouldn’t say what I wanted aloud, but it would repeat in my head, even when I was asleep and meant to be thoughtless. Vacant dreams, I liked to call them. My favorite kind.

I grew up in foster care. I was never beaten, or called any names, or made to play Cinderella, but every pair of parents I encountered were neglectful. They did the same to their own children. We had to make our own food. We didn’t have anyone to help us bathe. We had to dress ourselves. We rode the bus to school and back. As young as I was, it was a struggle to make ends meet. It was a pain to get myself up, help the younger kids get ready, and go to school and ignore other kids when they asked me why my hair was uncombed and my outfits were frumpy. I couldn’t just outright say I didn’t have a traditional household. I couldn’t admit why I was so mature for my age. We were _kids. _No one knew the difference. Most of everyone thought all kids were meant to have a Mom and Dad. The only ones who understood were the silent ones, the ones who didn’t want their business known.

I didn’t have any friends, aside from my foster siblings. And I always had to leave them at one point. Foster parents were temporary, so it was bittersweet whenever the goodbyes came. I knew it was coming, but I couldn’t help but want to stay—even with parents who only liked the money that accompanied _my_ company. I was irrelevant to their lights, but it felt like I meant something with their kids. Especially when they cried seeing me go.

As young and simple-minded as I was, I was always in a headspace beyond my years. You had to grow up fast in a broken system, just as you would a broken home. Staying naïve wasn’t an option. You learned in a dog-eat-dog world, you were the only person who you could truly depend on. Depending on others was a hazard. And though it scared me, I had to be the one there to catch my own fall. Trust and love were difficult to give willingly. I didn’t even know how to reciprocate them. I never had a _chance _to reciprocate them.

Then things changed. Not in a way I’d expected.

For the better. For _my _better.

After spending my first eight years alive jumping boats, sinking or swimming wherever I went, it came as a shock when I was adopted. The months that followed were foreign territory. Having someone who actually _wanted _to dress me, who took me out to celebrate when I got a good report card, who learned to braid hair _just for me_, it felt surreal. And I couldn’t believe he’d fought for the right to be my guardian after they’d told him a single father wasn’t a good homelife situation for a little girl. I’d given up on being happy or having a normal life.

The day I became Madeline Swan was transformative. And it was a day I’d like to keep forever close to my heart.

But it wouldn’t be very personal if I shared it, now would it?

* * *

_January 15th, 2005  
Outside the Swan House_

_  
_**WITHIN MY **first few months of being in Forks, I learned how much I loved to hike. There were so many trails here, ones that led to and from the woods, and the atmosphere—while rainy and dreary—was nothing more than I could ask for. I loved the rain, I loved the cold, I loved the trees. I felt more at home in the woods than I had anywhere else in my life. And my dad—Charlie—was more than eager to show me around and take me on a tour of the woods. He used the opportunity for a hunting party, and Harry Clearwater came too, but it was fun. _Particularly_ when I ended up tumbling down a hill and got mud and leaves all over my face. They teased and prodded at me the entire way home.

Hiking became a passion of mine. I spent every weekend out somewhere, putting foot to land and foot to land, and I sometimes even went into the woods after school to spend my evenings there. After I was given a camera for Christmas a few years back, I started snapping away memories of every place I visited. I was always making new discoveries in the woods. Nothing ever stayed the same. During autumn and winter, the leaves changed and fell, the muck turned white and crunchy. I went in there expecting a wonderland of wintry delights but got something eerie and dreamlike instead.

I never complained.

It was 2 in the afternoon and I’d spent my entire morning taking pictures of the trees. I’d also spotted wolf-prints, something I hadn’t ever seen before, and I was eager to show them to my dad. I didn’t know we had wolves this close to home. As I was shaking out my boots covered in muck, leaves, and snow-grit, camera strap hanging around my neck, my dad was just coming from the house. He had a huge grin on his face.

“Maddie!” he said, approaching me. I stopped stomping the gravel, returning his smile. His happiness had always been contagious. “You remember Bella, don’t you?”

There were a lot of names in my head, ones that didn’t matter and ones that did. When I thought about the name _Bella_, what popped up was a pretty brunette with sharp chocolate-brown eyes and a pale complexion. A slender frame and quiet demeanor. Someone who looked a lot like both her parents, but especially her mom, just with longer hair. “Bella? Your daughter?”

Dad nodded, nearly jumping on his toes.

“Is she coming to visit again?” I asked him, never dropping my smile. Bella was really nice when I first met her, and she stayed that way every time she came to visit in the summer. She wasn’t very extroverted, and she was older than me by a little over a year, but I never let our differences make us anything less than _somewhat_-siblings. I don’t think she did either. We weren’t cordial just for our Dad’s peace of mind, contrary to usual _somewhat_-siblings relationships.

“More than that,” Dad said, a grin budding on his mouth. “She’s coming to _stay. _Go to school in Forks, just like you do.”

“Really?” I probably looked just like him—elated, with a dumb smile stretched across my face. “When?”

“She’ll be getting here on Monday, starting school with you on Tuesday,” said Dad, before his smile dropped. “I wish you weren’t a sophomore, so you could help her to classes. She’ll need a friend.”

I flapped my hand, trying not to bounce up and down. I was so excited. “I can help her!” I told him. “I may be a sophomore, but I know most of the rooms. It’s a small school.”

“Great—great.” Dad’s smile curved back up, and he slithered an arm around my neck. When I continued to stare at him, nearing a breaking point on containing my exaltation, he must have noticed; my feet were forced northward, skidding on the gravel before they could even _think _to mobilize on their own, and Dad walked us back towards the house. “Wanna know what homecoming gift I’ve got for her?”

The door snapped open. It was old and wobbly, and it made a creaking noise when it was jerked from its lock. As the two of us disappeared into the house, I told him, “Of course!”

Nothing more than a scene from a movie, the door slammed shut behind us and our words fell into dust, just like our shadowing bodies.

I was happy for him. He’d missed out on so many years of his daughter’s life, only getting glimpses. She’d leave for home one summer end with long-running pigtails and mischievous eyes; she’d come back a year later with her hair cropped short and eyes bordering emptiness. I wanted to know what she looked like now. She was such a gorgeous person, inside and out. Dad never stopped his gushing and repenting. I was so, so overwhelmed with this desire to _know her. _

As a sister. As a best friend.

I hoped with all my might she’d welcome back a family she hardly knew, even if this entire trip was just an inconvenience. That her unhappiness at being swapped back and forth had evaporated, and she was excited to come here. She was the one who wanted to come in the first place, right? Surely it wasn’t Renee’s idea. If it was—

_Stop the nonsense. She’ll want to know you! _

Dad’s rambling was all white noise in my head, but I smiled and nodded anyway, wolf-prints long gone from my thoughts.

Bella would want to know me. Know us.

* * *

_January 17th, 2005  
Madeline Swan’s bedroom, kitchen_

**I WOKE UP **on the day of her intended arrival thinking about mountains, and how much I wanted to visit New Hampshire. Bella wasn’t a priority, not in a foggy, semi-conscious mind. Only after I’d gotten up and dressed to go for a walk, ignoring Dad as he hummed and chittered to himself along the thin hallway walls, ignoring my fatigue at being up at six in the morning, did it even _rise_ to the forefront of my priorities. I realized—_she was coming home today. _And while my father would be going to the airport to wait for her, I was expected to attend school. _Still. _

“Dad!” I called, rushing down the stairs. Each step was fast and a stumble, none so calculated as they were mindlessly put into action. No response came from my father, even as I ventured into the kitchen. Upon seeing him buttering toast I felt less frantic. _He’s not gone. He’s still here. _“Hey. Dad. Can I come?”

There was a light I’d never seen on him before, _in _him, and it only brightened when he looked at me. “Maddie, you have school,” he said, but the way he said it was strange. Like he was delivering the news that he’d won the lottery. “Bella’ll still be here when you get back.”

_Aw, _I thought, feeling like a blubbering child who was told she couldn’t have the newest Baby Alive. I probably looked the part, too. “But…” I gnawed on my bottom lip. “What if you guys go out to eat or something? I don’t have a key to the house.”

“If we did that, you’d come too, kid,” said Dad, his butter knife limp against his toast. It was probably cold by now.

The amount of incredulity in his tone made me feel embarrassed.

“_Oh_. Oh, okay.” I nodded. And kept nodding. I nodded until it felt like my head was coming loose from its screws. “That’s good.”

Dad examined me from top to bottom, his warm brown eyes coming to rest on my face. I had my hair pulled into a braid, face like Oil Central. I was wearing my warmest attire—a pair of too-big snow dungarees I’d gotten for Christmas one year and a triple layer of sweaters. My snow boots were crusted in muck and grit. There wasn’t anything telling about me, not really, but it wouldn’t take much brains to know where I was going. Not with a police officer for a father.

That very look on his face twisted, first a grimace than a smile, with humor crinkling at his eyes. “Again?” was all he said.

“I _always_ take a hike before school.”

“It’s thirty-two degrees outside, Mads.”

“So?”

Dad just shook his head. Arguing with me always turned out to be useless, much like speaking with a marble statue. “Alright, alright. Go on then. Are you coming back after your run or what?”

It was going to be more a _walk_ than a _run_, considering the temperature and considering my choice in dresswear, but I didn’t bother correcting something so irrelevant. A smile on my face, I pointedly looked back at my shoulders, where a backpack was nowhere to be seen. Not even the strap of a travel bag was visible. My only possession was my compass, which I had in my pants’ pocket.

Dad caught the hint. “Coming back to get your school books?”

I nodded.

“Alright.” Dad nodded back. It was a morning ritual, actually, something we _had _to do lest the universe’s balance spiral out of control. “I’ll leave the door unlocked. I would let you take my key for the day, but I can’t leave it to you in good faith. What happened to your last one? Was is the toilet, or losing it down a ravine? I never could keep track. This last one was your _tenth._”

“My _last, _last one? My purse got stolen,” I said grimly, thinking back on my collection of state landmark pins that decorated my jean crossbody. That purse had been my pride and joy, and having it stripped away from me in one abrupt _swoosh _left my heart irreparable. “That reminds me… I need a new purse.”

There was an urgency here now, especially after I glanced over and saw the time. 6:20 AM. School was in less than two hours. Dad had to go and pick up Bella. I had to go take my walk. Meaningful tasks, but one was more important than the other—as evidenced by Dad’s unusual energy. He was acting so different.

“Well, I’ll see you later, kiddo,” he said, ignoring my last comment. “_With_ Bells.”

I returned his smile. “Don’t lock me out!” I joked, a little bit scared he’d do the exact opposite, but I left anyway. I walked out that door that always creaked and slammed, nerves fried but standing at attention, and shivered upon meeting a brisk, unwelcoming gust of wind. It’s like it was saying, _Go away, human. _Even the trees felt cold.

Before I left for my daily session with nature, I took a glance back at the door. I thought about Bella, and how she’d be here when I got home from school. I was so excited to see her again. Would she look any different? Last I saw, she was normal—or as normal as a teenage girl could be. She was quiet and reclusive. What was she now?

I was going to find out in less than ten hours.

* * *

_January 17th, 2005  
Forks High School, Cafeteria _

**I KNEW** the school was going to be abuzz with the news of a newbie by tomorrow morning, but I was desperate to keep it under wraps. However, Dad was excited. When he got excited he liked to talk. By first period I’d already had three different people ask me about my sister. In a small town, with a school that had less than four-hundred-students in its max capacity, new people were a commodity. Especially someone who was the Chief’s biological daughter.

After an eventful first half of the day that consisted of dodging too-invasive questions and snoozing through a documentary on Shakespeare, I thought I was in the clear. I’d made it through the lunch line and sat at my usual spot in the middle of the cafeteria, when it happened. Alone for all but two minutes, someone sat down. This person was joined by four others. Before I could jump up and leave, clean-cut cuticles appeared on my arm, the hand that accompanied them gripping me tightly. Tighter than a father would his child in a crowd.

I looked up. It was Lauren.

Lauren was your average small-town beauty: she had eyes like green emeralds and hair the texture and color of corn-silk. Whenever she talked, she used perfect, coaxing sugar, the kind that only came out when you wanted to entice someone—but she used it _every time she spoke. _Her voice had a nasal-like quality to it, and I found myself staring at her nostrils, waiting for her to sniffle and cough. Was she sick? Or was she a smoker?

Why she was here, at my table, wasn’t a question I even had to think about. Lauren Mallory was no stranger to gossip. She _must_ have heard about Bella, some way or another.

Lauren leaned into me, where I could see every oxidized pore in microscopic detail, and said, “We heard your step-sister’s coming to town, Madeline. This one’s biological, right?”

The friends who’d accompanied her huddled close, staring at me. When my eyes flickered around, I could name them all. There was Jessica, and Mike, and Eric, and Angela. Tyler wasn’t with them, but I saw his head peaking around browsing bodies from a table over. Each one of them was fully attentive_. _They were interested in what I had to say, and it made me nervous. _They _made me nervous. I had never felt like I measured up to any of them. I was never the prettiest or the smartest or the funniest girl. I was just Madeline Swan.

“She—” My voice came out like a croak, and I stopped abruptly. I held my throat as I coughed. “She’s biological.”

“What does she look like?” Lauren eyed my hair and face. I hadn’t gotten to do my make-up this morning so the sparse places on my T-zone and cheeks were on full display. “Blonde, brunette? Blue eyes? Brown? Skinny, fat? Tall? Short?”

“Jee, Laur, sounds like you’re interrogating her,” Jessica said with a snort. But her eyes twinkled, a sign she wanted to hear my answers, too.

“So?” Lauren prompted.

Like anyone who wasn’t very good in confrontation, I had three telltales for being nervous: chewing my lip, glancing around the room, and saying stupid things. Worst case scenario, all three would come into play. With Lauren Mallory at my table, it was difficult not to be a sweating, nerves-wracked mess. At her expectant stare, I stammered, “You—you’ll see tomorrow.”

Eric groaned—as did Mike. “_Dude_,” said Eric, mirroring everyone at the table’s disappointed stares. “Come on—what does she look like?”

“Human,” I blurted out. _Stupid, stupid, stupid. _

Lauren’s hand disappeared from my arm. Before I could say some lousy apology, her head popped up in front of mine. While seemingly innocent in nature, her eyes cut deep, a threat hidden behind a smiling mouth. I’d never been at the mercy of her before, but with a new girl on the horizon, someone I knew better than any of our other peers, she had to make sure she’d be no threat. High school was like the thunder dome, and Bella was an unclear opponent. “Is she ugly?”

_I don’t like this. _“No,” I said. “She’s not ugly.”

“Is she _pretty?_” Lauren’s lip curled.

“Yes,” I said.

Eric nudged Mike in the stomach, grinning. His attention turned towards me. “Pretty, huh?”

I grimaced. “Yes. Very pretty. But I, uh, have to go. I have—rehearsal.” It wasn’t a lie. I _did _have rehearsal. A rehearsal for how to deal with further confrontations, since I was leaving this one in near-tears. Lauren was boy-crazy, Jessica was a follower, Angela was a coward, and the boys were eager for arm-candy. I may have been a nice person, but I wasn’t stupid. None of them were my friends.

Would Bella be their friend?

Lauren and Jessica whispered to one another, eyes always traveling back to me. I wanted to cry. I _really _wanted to cry.

“See ya, Swan,” called out Mike, as I got up and hurried away. Both him and Eric were laughing. But I didn’t think there was anything about this situation that was funny.

Only after I’d gotten out of the cafeteria did I realize I left my tray behind, as well as my dignity.

High school sucked.

* * *

_January 17th, 2005  
FIRST Forks High: Public Restroom, Car Lot THEN the Swan House: Front-yard_

**GETTING HOME **proved to be more of a hassle than it should have been. I’d spent the entire last period crying in the bathroom, bare face reaching a stage of blotchy that was far from fixable, and only when the bell rang did I snap out of my slump. I’d been here for an hour. I was all cried out by the thirty-minute mark. When the bathroom door slammed open and a group of chittering girls entered, I knew it was time that I cleaned myself up and made for home.

_You’re being childish, _I thought, wiping my nose with a tissue I had in my bag. I was sitting cross-legged and fully-clothed on the toilet, staring at my dirty Chucks. _A grown girl wouldn’t cry. _I let my emotions get the better of me. All because a group of popular kids made me feel like less.

Dad wouldn’t be happy when he got notified of my absence in seventh period.

He had Bella, though. Maybe that would lessen the blow, whenever and wherever it came.

_Just get up. Stop moping._

I didn’t remember getting up.

I left the bathroom, and left the school, and left the car lot. My feet took me places my mind wasn’t ready to process and dissect.

Have you ever seen a snake after its head been chopped off—wriggling and twitching, all nerves and no sense? That’s how I felt. I felt headless. And more than that, I felt like the sad, quiet child back in foster care, my uncombed hair the target for insecure children. Was that what Lauren wanted? Did her and her friends say those things intentionally? Did they _want _to hurt me?

I was naïve to think anything different.

By the time I’d gotten home, I wasn’t in perfect condition, but my face had cleared enough that it wouldn’t be _obvious _I’d been crying. There weren’t any tear-tracks, and my cheeks weren’t swollen. My eyes were puffy, just barely. It’d take a detective to sniff out my deception, from my crooked smile to the hopscotch-step gait. I was always good at putting on a charade.

Dad and Bella were out front when I got there. They weren’t alone, evidenced by the two tall figures standing by Bella’s homecoming gift.

I got closer, and everyone’s attention transferred to me.

“If it isn’t Little Miss Maddie Swan,” said Billy Black, my Dad’s dearest friend, with a warm smile. When I got close enough, he rolled a few feet over, and I leaned down to embrace his middle. He gave great hugs and I’d use any excuse for one.

Billy lived on the reserve and was the Quileute Chief. He had an inviting aura with laugh lines all around his face and had been in a wheelchair for months after his fight with diabetes took a turn for the worse. Dad made constant fishing trips with him and had him over throughout the seasons for sports games. Football, basketball, baseball—as long as they had each other’s company, the game didn’t matter. They clinked beers and swapped stories, all the while rooting for whichever team they preferred.

Sometimes I’d join them, clueless but willing to participate. Most of the time, though, I’d just sit in my room and talk to Jacob Black.

_There_ was Jacob, Billy’s only son, with charcoal hair longer than mine and eyes so chestnut I mistook them for bark. He was tall and lean, with a voice that made me think I was talking to a twenty-year-old instead of someone my age. Sixteen in mind and heart with mature, adult-grown physicality. He was a commodity.

And he’d wanted my sister since we first made mud-pies, over eight years ago. That still applied. I saw it in the close proximity. I saw it in the star-eyed gaze. He was head over heels, in too deep to leave.

“Yo, Mads,” said Jacob, beaming as he approached me. I traded one Black hug for another, this one carrying me up onto my toes. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

I peered around his shoulder, where Dad was standing by a rust-red 1953 Chevy pickup. Beside him was a girl. The girl was pale as a ghost, standing translucent under the skylight. Her dark hair gave her an ethereal glow, eyes dark in contrast to her skin, and she was of slender build. The strangest thing about her was the dark, gothic-toned clothing. The lack of a smile, the annoyed aura. The way she looked like she hated everything and wanted to disappear.

There wasn’t a single memory I had of her where she looked so sullen. But here she was, petulant—like she’d rather be in the Sahara Desert than Forks, Washington.

I stared at her, picking apart each unfamiliar detail, scrutinizing her. This was until I realized the glare she had on her face. Directed at me. Directed at Billy, Jake, and Dad. Directed at _everyone _and _everything, _as long as they were in the vicinity.

_She wants to know us, _my mind chanted, desperate to think it as fact.

“Hi!” I waved.

I didn’t receive one back.

“I’m going to my room,” said Bella abruptly, rudely—her face twitching.

“Bells, what—” Dad tried, looking pained, reaching for her. It seemed like her anger had followed overhead like a cloud from the airport to the house.

She didn’t take kindly to his attempts at coddling.

Bella dodged his hand, glared at each one of us in turn, and walked towards the house. She had a fury to her walk, one you couldn’t fake regardless of how good you were at acting. When she opened the door, she propelled herself inside, and the door slammed behind her. 

I wanted to burst into tears. But I held them in, knowing I’d cried enough today to last a decade of emotional turmoil.

“Is she okay?” asked Jake.

Dad shook his head. Billy rolled over to him, staring up with a frown, looking sorry and guilty all at once. When Billy placed a comforting hand on Dad’s arm, he didn’t fight it. He leaned into it. And he stared at me, with that same look Billy did, like he wanted to say all sorts of things but knew nothing about deliverance.

I had so many questions I wanted to ask. The one most present was the very one none of us could answer.

_What was wrong with Bella?_

* * *

_January 17th, 2005_  
_The Swan House, outside Bella & Maddie’s bedroom_

**I KNOCKED** on the door three times. There came no answer, not once. I said her name. I asked what was wrong. I tried to be gentle, tried to put myself in her shoes.

Nothing but an unamicable silence.

I stood outside for a while afterwards, staring at the door, thinking about Bella and wracking for reasons. Was she unhappy to be here? Was she depressed? Did her and Dad have a bad relationship?

What could possibly have led to her looking like she did? Why hadn’t she said anything to me? Why was I locked out of my own room?

_You didn’t do anything wrong, _I reasoned. Unreasonably, illogically, I believed the opposite.

After an hour of looking and feeling stupid, I heard someone walk up the stairs. Dad’s form appeared seconds later as he began his trek down the hallway. He was dressed in a pair of plaid lounge pants and a black T-shirt, his messy hair a mop atop his head. Obviously ready for bed. When he saw me, he came to a full stop, face falling into a pinched look of despair.

“Still no luck?” he asked.

I shook my head miserably.

“She’ll come around, Mads,” Dad said quietly, reaching out a hand to squeeze my shoulder. I had to remind myself he was hurting, too. He didn’t know how to help her. He thought he was her problem. He knew she didn’t want to be here.

That light I’d seen in him just this morning had diminished completely. The darkness that itched and scratched at him now, turning him blue like the evening moon would paint the sky, had shattered him completely, reverse-cycling him back into the fragilely-healing father I knew him as. He’d slowly been picking up the pieces left in his ex-wife and estranged daughter’s wake. I was here doing my damnedest to help.

I glanced at the door, lowering both my head and voice; “Are you okay?” I asked him.

Dad’s face fell. Sure, he’d already looked stricken, but my words broke his thinly-crafted façade he put up for my sake. “I just want her to be happy here,” he said. “She’s only here because she has to be.”

I’d suspected since I first saw her glare, but having it confirmed hurt deeply. I swallowed hard and said, “I do too, Dad. I don’t know how to help her.”

More troubling was how we’d get her to _accept _help.

Dad stared at me, eyes broken, looking like he wanted to attempt drawing knuckles on the doors too, before he just left. His door closed softly behind him, as he locked himself in his room.

I did the same, leaving, with one last glance at my bedroom door.

I slept on the couch that night—or tried to, at least. I stared up at the ceiling and thought about Bella, whose voice I’d heard one full sentence from the entirety of today. I had been excited to come home, thinking the words from Lauren were nothing compared to what Bella and I would get to talk about. I was happy, excited.

All until I got here to realize: Bella didn’t come here willingly.

She didn’t want to know us. Or Forks. She wanted nothing to do with being here.

And that’s what hurt the most.

-

_A/N: This is gonna be fun to write. It’ll be angsty and it’ll be painful, but I’m going to love every fucking second of it. The current endgame romance is unclear, so in the comments, tell me who you’d prefer her lover be. Your options are endless considering how early we are. I mean, vampire or shapeshifter, I don’t care! I’d prefer to write a romance you all want the most. Maddie’s current friendship with Jacob may sway a few of you (I know a shit ton of you are Team Jacob in general) but don’t feel like it HAS to be a Jacob-romance. There’s all sorts of characters to choose from, including girls! Paul’s the only one I really don’t want to write, since I already have a Paul fanfic. The only characters in range I’m really excluding are Carlisle, Paul, and Edward. The rest are fair game._

_The story is plot-based and the romance is just a subplot, FYI! I hope you all will love watching Maddie’s story unfold and won’t be disappointed that a lot of her journey for the duration of Twilight (the book/film) focuses on self-evolving, a horror-movie-inspired subplot I won’t spoil, and the development of her relationship with the Cullen family. Jacob will be a constant presence, and there will be a few cameos from pack members pre-shift, but the shapeshifter plot won’t be appearing until Volume II!_

_Bella is extremely OOC. I hated her character in the Twilight series so I’m twisting her to be what I would have loved to see. She isn’t going to be 100% reliant on Edward (who will also be different) and he isn’t going to be her life. Hell, maybe I’ll make their budding relationship a subplot so I can make it seem more slow-burn. Bella will be antisocial and bitchy for most of the first few chapters but her backstory and personality are totally different. I hope you guys like her and see her as three-dimensional. _

_Before you get angry that I’m “changing” things, you have to remember this is FANFICTION. I don’t own Twilight in the slightest tho, so here’s me acknowledging my lack of rights._

_ Tell me how you like this so far and give me ideas for characters and plots! Thanks a bunch. _


	2. Chapter II: Life's but a walking shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get crazy weird.

| STARDUST, VOLUME I |

Chapter II ; Life’s but a walking shadow

‘Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player,  
that struts and frets his hour upon the stage,  
and then is heard no more;  
it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,  
signifying nothing.’

Macbeth | Act 5, Scene 5

_William Shakespeare_

_-_

**BELLA WASN’T ALWAYS SO COLD**.

It started slow, like all change does. She used to be fun-loving and kind. She was the first to propose an idea, and always the last to run into it; she loved watching the rest fumble into danger-zone territory. Stories about her and Jacob were my favorites. Dad loved to retell them, and Jacob loved to relive them. The mud-pies, the makeshift tire swing—the fishing trips that always ended in someone with a bluegill in their pants. I felt like I’d been there myself, that I got to witness Bella Swan’s long-gone childhood innocence.

When I first met her at ten-years-old, she was nothing of the sort. Bella was boring and mundane, the epitome of a uglie-to-hottie lead. She wore blacks and grays, talked slow, and always asked when she was going home. She hated it here. Eventually she started begging for trips to California, just to avoid the dreary, sad town that was Forks. Dad left me in the care of Billy most times, claiming it was because he didn’t want Bella’s bad moods to rub off on me; I knew it was probably due to Bella’s distaste for anything and everything Forks. I was very expressive in my love for Forks, and the bright, happy demeanor I’d bore since first leaving foster care followed me every which way I went. Forks was my favorite place to be, and I’d compare it to every vacation spot, regardless of how much I liked it.

_I love the rain. I love the trees. I love the silence. _

Bella wanted heat, open plains, and sound. Bella hated what I was. But I didn’t realize why she treated me so coldly until an eleven-year-old Jacob made a joke that I was on her “shit-list.” The excitement I felt for her coming here was totally misplaced. She didn’t want to be here, and I tricked myself into thinking she’d be someone different after just a few years of distance.

_Pig-tailed and happy. Sad and gloomy. _

She wanted Arizona. And that was something neither me or Dad could give her.

How can you help someone whose absence is the only saving grace?

Trick question.

_You can’t._

-

_January 18th, 2005 _

_The Swan House, outside Bella & Maddie’s room_

**I KNOCKED.**

At 6 in the morning, I assumed Bella would be awake already. We had school today. She was a new student, and though Dad never mentioned it to her last night, we needed to get there early for her to pick up her schedule. I didn’t know if she was an early riser, but I hoped she was, because I had things I needed to do. Clothes to dress in. A path to hike. I needed to be let into the room.

In the past five minutes I’d spent knocking and murmuring quiet requests, there’d been no answer. It was the same as last night. Bella was behind that door, probably awake and getting dressed, and was ignoring every little whine that came from me.

Again, I tried rationalizing it all. My hopeful little head thought this was all just a misunderstanding, and Bella had been in a horrible, people-hating mood yesterday. There was a reason behind everything, and I hoped this wasn’t a soul-staple. This _couldn’t_ be an accessory. This attitude was caused by something obscure, something I knew next to nothing about.

“Bella, _please_ open up,” I begged, leaning my head up against the wooden frame. “I need to get ready for school.” I wanted to add, _I made breakfast, too!_ But why would she care? She didn’t know my hobbies or my likes and dislikes. She knew next to nothing. She was basically a stranger.

_Hopeful, Maddie. Be hopeful._

Ahem—unlike Dad, Bella had never got to fully enjoy my kitchen skills, and I wanted it to all be a surprise. This _needed_ to be a surprise. I knew appetite played a big part in a person’s happiness, so maybe if Bella left and smelt the aroma of French toast downstairs, her mood would lighten. Her darkness would lose its breadth. There had to be something that made her happy.

What was it?

“Go away,” Bella’s muffled voice responded.

This answered the question that had plagued me from when I first saw her again. What _truly_ made Bella happy was—

_Not me_, I sullenly thought.

I sighed and pressed my head off the frame. This was all a waste of time—to _heck_ with optimism. I had chosen to pursue her, I had chosen to put her needs above my own, I had chosen to let her negativity override my own (_very_ translucent) hopefulness. Dad’s own turmoil had impacted this decision. Instead of wanting to help her for my benefit or her own, I wanted to help her for Dad’s. He’d been talking about her homecoming since he first found out, and I knew he loved her dearly from the fond tone in his voice every time she was brought up in conversation. So what kind of daughter would it make me if I didn’t at least _try_ integrating her into our life?

“Breakfast is downstairs when you’re hungry,” I muttered, soft as a wisp of wind, into the frame. My back turned to the door. 

As I walked downstairs to eat my slowly-cooling breakfast, I heard frantic shuffling in the room. The door came open right when I reached the bottom of the stairs.

_She’s using the bathroom. She’s using the bathroom. She’s using the bathroom_.

Slight, light-footed steps fell on overly-sensitive ears, heading the same direction as me—yet trailing behind—and I knew. I just knew. My optimism deflated to the point I physically flinched, and my heart dropped.

I turned back, unwilling to stay quiet. Bella’s gloomy face peeked out from the edge of the stairs. “What’s wrong?”

Even my anger was filtered, coming from a closed mouth.

That taut thread keeping her a broody, ghoulish presence snapped. The snap was violent, and I flinched again, my watch wary.

Bella scowled at me.

“_You’re_ what’s wrong. _You’re _my problem!” she said angrily. Her head appeared fully around the corner. “You’re such a fucking bother. Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

Every word was a hit, and like my flinch, my body physically stumbled back. I was _entirely_ taken aback. Why she felt so compelled to attack me just for caring, I didn’t know—was it a history of being used? Maybe she fell in love and her lover had ulterior motives, every time he came to her aid. Her mom was never really there for her in her time of need, or so I’d been told in the past. And Dad was used to pushing away instead of pushing back.

_I can’t help you._

“I’m sorry,” I squeaked out.

“Just stop trying, Madeline. We’re not sisters and we never will be,” Bella said as she walked down the stairs. She stopped just inches away from me when she reached the bottom. “Got it?”

“Um…” I flinched again when she glared at me. “Okay, Isabella. I’m sorry.”

“And _don’t _call me that!” She hit me hard in the shoulder as she went around.

My shoulder stung, as did my eyes. I wanted to clutch at myself and cry.

_Stop being so weak, _I thought, angry with myself more than I’d ever been. I’d never be able to help her, and to her, I was a problem. Not _the _problem, but an underlying issue that was of no use to anyone or anything. _She needs help from someone that isn’t you._

She hated Forks. I already knew that.

But never in these past few days did I even think about her hating me, too.

-

_January 18th, 2005  
Forks High School – Car Lot, THEN Front Hallway_

**BELLA’S HOMECOMING TRUCK WAS **parked on the edge of the parking lot when I got there, and my head was burning with humiliation at her own absence. She’d left quickly, without asking if I needed to ride, knowing I didn’t have my own car, not caring that I didn’t have a license. During breakfast, Bella had taken a piece of French toast, had a single bite, then threw it back on her plate. I’d watched her leave. Dad patted my shoulder and left just as abruptly.

I felt sad, with no explanation as to why. There wasn’t a lot of logic in her actions. Neither was there in mine. Even Dad seemed more erratic than normal. There was nothing about this, them, or me that made sense—and it was driving me crazy.

All I knew was that helping her wouldn’t help me, and it sure as hell wouldn’t help Dad; without her accepting either of us, or our help, there was no point. She was content with being a bug—a presence that’s always there, but never actively participates—and though I wasn’t content to let her stay that way, you can’t help someone who doesn’t want to help themself.

That’s why looking at Bella’s truck only made me sad. I told myself not to bother her on her first day of school and tried ignoring the pelting rain. But it consisted of big, thick droplets, and through an equally-thick consistency, the rain drowned my face and body.

_You love the rain. _

_You love the rain._

_ You _

_Love_

_ The_

_Rain_

_ Right?_

I _did_ love the rain, but…

No one in their right mind would want to show up in a public place drenched from head to toe. I didn’t have an umbrella, either.

Jogging up to the school building got me more soaked than walking would have. As I reached the doors and pushed them open, I felt like a wet dog.

It didn’t help that the hallway was jam-packed with others. Though they didn’t turn and stare, I felt like they were when my back was turned—the sort of paranoia that makes you think there’s monsters under your bed.

A familiar face, a familiar stature—a familiar _everything_—was standing near my locker, with a familiar blond-haired boy accompanying her. He was leaning up against the locker, the back of his head all I could see from this distance. I stared until my vision blurred, every bit of my head aching from the pressure; eventually I threw caution to the wind, and approached the twosome.

Bella’s head was turned towards Mike as I advanced on them, and her eyes narrowed when she saw me coming towards her. The narrowed eyes quickly turned into a glare, growing more vicious the closer I came, and when Mike noticed her diverted attention, he snapped his head around. Maybe he was expecting another boy—competition, if you will—but all he got was nervous me, a timid gaze flickering between two predators. His mean face fell into mocking, open mouth fading into a smirk.

“Oh, that’s your _half_-sister, right?” Mike said loudly, making a grand show of gesturing at me. I stopped in my tracks. “Pretty obvious the two of you aren’t related.”

I pressed my lips together and glanced down, then back up again. I knew Mike had been a participant in yesterday’s match-up between me and a group of popular kids, but he’d been pretty moderate compared to the girls; I assumed that meant he was just girl-crazy and not a bully. His mean words made that a fat chance, though—and I had to bite my tongue from questioning it.

It hurt, to be targeted by someone who hardly knew me. It’d hurt even more if he _did _and continued his harsh treatment. But as nice as I was, I was always susceptible to others, and I took every word with fever, turning my head into a war zone.

_Everyone gets bullied. _

But not everyone could tune out cruelty.

“Bella,” I said quietly upon reaching them. I was twisting my hands into my sweater, avoiding eye contact. Like the anxious new girl—_Bella’s part _that I’d stolen from her. Her face twitched, suggesting she’d heard me. Mike continued to smirk_. Maybe he thinks she’ll follow his lead and ditch me to the curb._ Maybe she would. Maybe she’d already told him every little thing she thought about me. I nervously glanced over at him. “Urm… Mike.”

Bella pulled at her bottom lip with her teeth, closing her locker door she’d been tossing things into. Perfume, a bottle of water, truck keys, and a sketch book were all I had a chance to glimpse; after that, it was her angry eyes and sneering mouth. A face pulled taut by tense muscles.

I swallowed.

“What?” she practically barked.

Mike huffed, but didn’t speak.

I pinched at my wrist, searching for confidence to speak. “I—will you be okay for the day?” I rushed out.

Bella rolled her eyes at me. “I already told you. Now get off my back.”

_Told me—what exactly? That I needed to leave her alone? _I just wanted the reassurance she wouldn’t need me, so I wouldn’t worry. I didn’t want her to be alone and scared.

I’d forgotten, though, that she didn’t need me. She didn’t need _anyone. _

I should have left.

Instead of leaving, I asked, “Did you get your schedule?”

She sneered again. “Can’t you just leave me alone? Jeez.”

_Leave me alone._

“Oh. Uhm.” My mouth pulled into a frown. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

Mike was snickering. Bella turned her sharp glare on him and said angrily, “You too, bozo. Get the fuck away from me.”

I startled, and Mike did too. We both stared at her. I hadn’t expected her to target anyone else with the same ferocity, and clearly Mike thought this was a special treatment she saved strictly for me. I couldn’t say I didn’t—_hadn’t_ thought the same.

But here she was, showing that it wasn’t just me.

She hated everyone.

Predictably, it was relief that seeped into me at this not-so-kind revelation.

“So go. Both of you.” Bella shooed us off, shooting lasers at Mike and daggers at me.

I had a habit of running away anytime I was shown someone didn’t want me there.

“Bye, Bella,” I said, with a timid sort of friendliness, and waved.

_She doesn’t want you there. You should run away._

I sourly thought, _Good to keep things consistent! _and didn’t look back when I turned and walked away.

-

_January 18th, 2005  
Forks High School – English classroom, THEN lunchroom_

**ENGLISH CLASS **was a mundane affair.

The teacher (Mr. Beck) handed essay grades back, giving sympathetic glances to the characters with not-so-satisfactory scores. When he came to me, he handed back a A, a ninety-five percent, and all I could do was smile and give him my thanks for showing no emotion to hint at my grade. I liked to stay on the down-low in relation to grades, as I wasn’t the best at doing other’s work for them (as many would ask for, if they knew I was well-to-do in most of my classes—aside from Statistics) and socializing wasn’t my forte.

_Maybe Mike and them would like you better if you helped with their homework—_

I drowned the voice out with another voice—that of my current teacher Dr. Graham, who taught Chemistry. As it was a junior-level course, I was in a classroom filled with upperclassmen, and I was intimidated by them. So I liked to play wallflower, and go unnoticed.

I sat twiddling my thumbs and staring at the board, conjuring up ideas about Bella and the popular kids instead of paying attention; only when a wad of notebook paper came hurling at my head did I even startle. I craned my neck backward, Mr. Graham’s voice now a background static, and saw Jessica staring at me.

She pointed her head towards the wad lying by my desk. I took the hint and leaned down to get it.

Un-crinkling the paper did nothing to eliminate the wrinkles, but I ignored them in favor of scrutinizing the black ink on it. Jessica had sent a message my way.

**_Bella’s sitting with us at lunch. You should join._**

I frowned, looking back at Jessica. Did she truly think Bella wanted me there? Or was this just for a laugh about our chaotic, unloving relationship? I found myself leaning towards the latter, regardless of the tiny voice in my head wanting to think the first option was the whole truth.

_Lauren would be there to interrogate Bella, _I thought. Alarm bells rung in my head. With that thought in mind, I turned away with responding to Jessica.

Seconds later, I heard someone whisper-shout my name.

“Swan!”

Mr. Graham didn’t turn. But some of my classmates did, craning their necks to look at me curiously.

I blushed, and snapped my head around to look at Jessica. Again. “What?” I whisper-shouted back.

“You _have_ to come,” was all she said. Well, that didn’t really incite the need to do as she asked; it surely got me to think that was all a trick. Maybe she noticed my lack of communication, both in face and voice, because she then said, “It’s your _sister, _right? We’re all super excited to get to know her. _Especially _Lauren_._ Jump aboard the welcome wagon!”

I crinkled my nose. I was already on the Bella Swan Welcome Wagon, and integrating Bella into the cycle of the Swan household and Forks current wasn’t turning out so swell. I would keep trying, but I couldn’t guarantee anything positive out of it; maybe she’d eventually come to terms with living here and find some sort of common ground with me, but she’d never love me. She’d never love Forks. And I couldn’t envision a future where she would be friends with mean popular kids.

Bella was mean herself, but she wasn’t gossipy and deceptive. She’d tell it straight to your face if she didn’t like you.

I breathed out harshly, not responding to Jessica. Mr. Graham was writing a stoichiometry equation on the chalkboard, talking loudly about our future exam—and Jessica’s social issues were the least of my own problems.

Imaginary plugs went in.

I couldn’t help but dread what they would do and say to Bella at lunch, though.

-

_January 18th, 2005  
Forks High School – Cafeteria_

**AFTER AN EVENTFUL **time in Statistics, it was time for a twenty-minute eating period. After dropping by the vending machine in the 2nd Floor hallway to grab a soda, I made my way to the cafeteria. I’d almost gotten there when a lean arm drove its way in between my torso and elbow, locking on tight. I glanced at the perpetrator.

It was Jessica, unsurprisingly.

“I want to eat alone, please,” I immediately said, before she even had a chance to open her mouth.

She scrunched up her nose and laughed. “Nah, not happening. Now come on! You’re part of the Bella welcome committee.”

I never wanted to be a part of this. I’d been told to leave Bella alone numerous times, and I was just trying to oblige her demands. Neither Jessica or her friends knew what was to come in accompaniment of harassing and hassling Bella. I didn’t think warning them would stop the inevitable.

Jessica was rather strong for someone so petite. As I tried wriggling away from her grip, she would just hold on tighter, dragging me like a bale of hay all the way to the cafeteria. The doors came open, bright lights hitting me in the eyes. Jessica just continued forward, heading towards a table in the middle.

I saw Bella, sitting without a tray, sneering at a group of familiar eager faces as they interrogated her. She looked like she really wanted to wring someone’s neck. Lauren was front and center, fingers just inches from Bella’s hand, her predatory posture utterly terrifying. Mike was there, and so were Angela and Eric. Even Tyler was sitting on Bella’s left side. There were two seats available on that same side, and I knew they were reserved for Jessica and me.

I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want to be here.

_Just let me go, Jessica, _I begged internally.

My silent plea went unnoticed.

Bella spotted the two of us from overtop Lauren’s prom-queen hair. Her face went cold in a matter of seconds.

Lauren looked around, a smile coming onto her mouth when she saw me. “Oh, _hi,_” she said.

“Hey guys, sorry we’re late!” Jessica said in greeting, tugging me and causing me to fall into the chair beside Bella. I placed my soda on the table and nervously pulled my bag into my lap. Bella was still glaring at me. “Had to go hunt down Miss _Flyaway _here, but ta-da! Found her.”

“Ah, _Maddie, _we were just asking your half-sister here how it’s like living in a house with you,” said Lauren. Her mouth was sealed permanently in a patronizing smile. “You know what she said?”

I blinked, glancing over at Bella. She was watching indifferently, like she didn’t care that the attention was on her. Like she didn’t care about anything. “Well, no…”

Lauren laughed. “Of course not. You don’t talk to anyone. She said you’re a _great cook _and _overly friendly. _If you can cook, why don’t you ever bring anything for us?”

I wanted to just look away and stay quiet, but the bitter part of me snapped. I couldn’t suppress my annoyance. “We’re not friends,” I said.

Lauren looked like she’d been hit. Her permanent smile suddenly dropped. “You don’t even _have _friends, you ugly little—”

Tyler threw out his hands. “Wow, wow! Calm the hell down.”

Mike laughed. “Nah, let her continue. It’s _Swan._”

That’s when Bella apparently had enough. She dropped the pen she’d been clicking on-and-off and threw a fist down into the table. She looked from every individual to the next, eyes slit and venomous. When she stopped on me, I could have sworn her eyes softened.

“Shut the fuck up, or I will _hurt you,_” she growled. Mike widened his eyes, and both Tyler and Eric looked like they wanted to laugh at his expense. Then Bella chilled them all with her next words: “_All _of you.”

Everyone at the table fell silent.

That’s when Jessica caught something out of the corner of her eye. She let out a sudden, dreamy sigh. “Lauren, Lauren, look!” She flapped a hand out at the rightmost area of the cafeteria. “God, he’s so _gorgeous._”

“Who, Edward?” Lauren waved her hand dismissively, looking anything but dismissive. Her eyes were filled with rage and longing. “He’s alright.”

She was just saying that because he’d rejected her last few advances, never willing to go on dates or be seen with her. It really bruised her ego, and that showed in her current gaze. I tried to ignore it as I glanced to where Jessica was looking.

It was the Cullen family, sitting and talking together, unfinished food items spread out on their table. Dad loved Dr. Carlisle Cullen, and thought his family was a great addition to Forks ever since they’d moved in. I thought they were all pleasantly nice, though they certainly hated socializing with anyone out of their family. I labelled it down to introversion and a need to be isolated. I wouldn’t blame them for it. Most of the people that went here were extremely mean and manipulative. They liked to gossip and play tricks.

Jasper and Alice were in my art class. Edward was in my English class. Rosalie and Emmett were higher-ups and taking college-level courses, but I’d seen them around in the hallways. They ranged from nice to neutral, the day always being the factoring ingredient.

Looking at them hurt. They were all built like sculptures: beautiful and inhumane.

As I glanced away from their beautifully-inhumane faces, I saw Bella.

Her gaze was full of pure hate and targeting the table of teenagers I’d just finished looking at. 

“Fucking monsters,” she hissed under her breath. When I glanced back at the Cullens, I saw Edward staring hard at her.

For a moment I wondered if he’d heard what she said.

Ignoring the fleeting thought, I shook off my confusion and said, “That’s the Cullen family. They’re—”

_“_I _know_ what they are.”

I startled. The others at the table were all staring at the Cullens and gossiping about them, so I knew they weren’t paying attention to our conversation. I lowered my voice anyway, and said, “They’re really nice. I have Alice and Jasper in art, and Edward in English. Their Dad’s a doctor.”

Bella laughed. “_Dad?_” She couldn’t stop laughing. Was she shock? I didn’t know. I didn’t know how to help. I watched until she slowly got control of herself again. “You need to stay away from them, Maddie. They’ll hurt you.”

My mind was caught between thinking _She called me Maddie _and _Why would they hurt me? _

“They’re _nice,_” I tried stressing.

Bella’s frustration grew to an ire. “Are you fucking stupid? Just listen to me. _Stay away from them._”

They didn’t talk to anyone, anyway, so it wouldn’t be very hard avoiding them. But I didn’t understand her problem with them.

It was like she _knew them personally. _

I shook my head and told her, “I don’t understand.”

Bella angrily grabbed her pen and threw it at Mike. He let out a choked squeal. She looked me dead in the eye and said coolly, “You will. But not from me. You’ll know when you’re dead.”

She left amidst cries from the group, Mike’s loudest of all.

_You’ll know when you’re dead._

What did she mean by that?

-

Bella tried getting me to ride home with her at the end of the day. I repeatedly declined.

I was well on my way to being confused.

I thought she hated me. Why was she asking so concerned for my safety?

I left her back at school and walked home.

**-**

_January 18th, 2005  
The Swan House – Bella & Maddie’s bedroom_

I plopped down on my bed, so, _so _thankful that Bella was in the shower, and pressed the phone to my ear.

I dialed a number that was a more familiar Arabic numbers combination than any other; I knew it better than my own. After today’s events, I needed the comfort of the other liner’s voices, and needed his reassurance that things would turn out okay. Maybe this wasn’t as good a solution as actually _having _him here, but he had ball practice at 6. And he lived on the edge of the reserve.

“It’ssss Oliver,” chirped a deep, masculine voice on the other end. It wrapped around me like a velvet cloak, embracing me like its body would if only they were both here. It comforted me on a level no other human-being would ever be capable of, something horrible if it ever turned out he didn’t love me as much as I loved him. “Oh—wait. Shit. I didn’t check the caller ID. Who is this?”

I giggled into the receiver, deepening my voice before saying, “_Hi, _Oliver. Pleasure to meet your acquittance. Before we continue this conversation, though… What’s your favorite scary movie?”

Oliver let out a laugh. Then it quieted—instantly, almost. There was a pinch of calm silence. When I felt like he’d somehow disappeared from the line, he said, “_Killer Klowns from Outer Space_.”

“Oliver, oh my _God!_” I laughed again, fighting to control the case of the giggles he’d infected me with. “That’s not even a scary movie. It’s just stupid.”

“Oh, and _what’s _scary to you, huh? _Sleepaway Camp_? _Chopping Mall?_” He blew a raspberry. “You’re one weird, fucked-up chica.”

“I wish you were here so I could smack you upside the head,” I said, my tone scolding. I was also glad he _wasn’t _here, as I was pouting rather childishly. Oliver had a knack for pointing out everything embarrassing or ridiculous I did, and I returned the favor; our relationship was founded on making fun of each other. His attempts were always fond, lacking in ridicule, and mine followed example. We had been told by family that we were perfect for each other, once or twice.

If there was anything damning about our relationship, it was the effortless way we fit into one another. Almost _too _effortless.

“There’s something else I’m sure you’d want to smack,” Oliver said suggestively. I could just _hear_ the grin. “Too bad I’m not there, huh?”

I sighed. “Too, too bad.”

Oliver heard my tone, probably noticed something was off—_maybe, _or his next words could’ve just been a coincidence. His voice softened, and he asked, “How’s it been at Forks? Still as white as ever?”

“Well, it isn’t the rainy city for nothing,” I told him, fighting a smile. I was upset, but being that way didn’t mean I needed to take it out on anyone I loved. _Especially _Oliver. “Everybody’s clear as crystal.”

“Except you.”

He was right. Though I never knew my birth parents, looking into the mirror was enough to see that I was part-Filipino. I looked entirely different, entirely new, compared to everyone else in this small, rainy town. I felt like eyes followed me everywhere I went. I knew I stood out from a crowd, especially one as “diverse” as Forks, but I liked to pretend people weren’t staring at me because of my skin color. Maybe it was my eyes or my Converse. My smile or my laugh. _Not the little things that made me abnormal._

Oliver noticed my silence. “Yo, don’t go incognito on me, Mads. Is the connection breaking? You’re like a _mouse, _all quiet and shit,” he said in one breath. Though every word was a joke, I knew he was actually worried. I was quiet, but not mute. I could be timid, but I was mostly just subdued.

I understood why that’d spike concern.

I didn’t want to tell him about the popular kids at school, my mean “half” sister, or my struggles with loving myself. None of them were problems I should have weighed on another person, let alone _Oliver. _He had enough on his plate. Between basketball practice and working for the family business in lumber, he didn’t need my added hitches. He was seventeen and a senior at La Push High. He was just weeks away from turning eighteen. He was getting ready to apply for college, searching for basketball scholarships, looking for internships in construction; I had no right to worry him.

_He’s already worried._

I already failed in that regard.

Swallowing my fears, I whispered into the receiver, “Things keep going wrong, Oli. Bella hates me. People from school are mean to me. I—I can’t even bear _looking _at myself sometimes, and I—”

“I’m going to stop you right there, Mads,” interrupted Oliver. He sounded serious from the other end, a contrast to his usual silly voiceovers. “Why give a shit about any of that? Sounds like you’re worrying about a girl who knows nothing about you, some insecure schoolkids that pick on the pretty, nice girl they’ll never compare to, and looking in the mirror and believing the same shit some lowlifes told you. You’re gorgeous, inside and out, babe. You shouldn’t care about anyone else’s opinion but your own. And mine, of course. Fuck the rest.”

He always knew what to say. It both scared and warmed me.

I picked at a chipped nail and said quietly, “God, I don’t deserve you.” A few seconds went by. “Just.. _thanks_, Oli. I love you. _So, so much._”

“Anytime, doll. And I love you too. More than you could _imagine, _probably.” I heard a ruckus going on in the background. It sounded like some of his more rowdy teammates were hooting and hollering, badgering him in the middle of a phone call. I heard him tell the guys to “shut the fuck up” and “leave him alone.” After they disappeared from the line, he said into it,” I gotta go, babe. Coach K wants us to warm up. Will you be okay?”

The fact he’d let me stay on the line with him when he was just minutes away from ball practice made me want to track the guy down and shower him in hugs and kisses. He was just so _wonderful. _I didn’t deserve him.

One day, maybe he’d know so. And he’d tell me he needed someone who did.

_I was fine though._

Really.

“Of course!” I told him smilingly. “Just have fun for me, okay? And tell the guys I said hi.”

“Will do, chief. Love ya.”

“Love ya too.”

I fell onto my bed and fought tears as the line went dead.

_Don’t let your insecurities get the better of you, idiot._

_Stop telling yourself you’re not worth it._

_Stop thinking about Bella._

_ Get over yourself._

_Stop!_

But the thoughts wouldn’t.

And eventually, I cried myself to sleep.

-

_January 18th, 2005  
Three hours later_

**SOMEONE SHAKING MY **shoulders woke me in the dead of night.

I came back to my senses in a frantic fashion, going from my back to my stomach to gaze up at the invader. When it was just Bella’s solemn features, visible through a shard of moonlight, staring back at me, I had to bite back a confused whine.

“What do you know about the Cullens?” she abruptly asked me, raising both eyebrows.

I found her question odd. Why did she _care_ so much about the Cullens? First in the cafeteria, and then when she’d offered me a ride back to the house. She didn’t know any of them personally, right? I never did ask if any of them were friends of hers. Surely they were just enigmas to her as they were to everybody else in the school. I never would have expected Bella to fall prey to clichés, though.

Shaking my head to rid my sight of black bubbles, I said, some of it things I'd already said, “Their Dad’s a doctor. They came here a few years ago. A few of them are graduating this year. I don’t know any of them personally.”

Bella narrowed her gaze. “What do you know about _monsters_?”

I froze. _Monsters. They haunt the day and hunt the night. _Anyone with a stable mind knew that wasn’t _it_, though. I knew what a monster looked like. They came in different shapes and forms, but they most commonly came as humans. They were the ones bred to have consciences, only to fail in feeling compassion for others. Not the ones who looked or talked different.

Those were the good monsters.

_Monsters._

Why did this matter?

“Not all of them are bad,” I said quietly.

Bella violently shook her head. She took my face in her skinny hands and made me look at her. I was afraid, but didn’t look away, even as she whispered, “The Cullens are monsters. Stay the fuck away from them.”

Maybe she knew them after all. Or maybe she knew someone acquainted with them.

I was very confused.

“They’re just teenagers.” I didn’t quite know how dangerous teenagers could be.

Bella’s nostrils flared. “If you know what’s best, you’ll stay away. And if you don’t...” Her eyes turned sorrowful. “You won’t like what happens to you, Madeline.”

This—I didn’t know how to take it. Bella had a bone to pick with me, yet she was warning me about something I found myself not understanding. Why was she doing this? It couldn’t be because she cared. The Cullens were just kids we went to school with. Here she was acting like they were _cursed, _or something.

I wasn’t afraid as much as I was hurt.

“They’re just _people, _Bella.”

“_They’re killers_.”

I blinked up at her. She was still holding my face, still staring at me, still looking like she was possessed. I couldn’t tell whether she was scared or driven insane.

Whatever it was, I was not itching to know.

“It—just.” I was tongue-tied and exhausted. My eyes hurt from the cries that drove me into a deep sleep. I didn’t feel like discussing something like this with her in the early hours of morning. Much less about a group of kids I barely knew the names of. “Go to sleep, Bella.”

Bella slowly let go of my face, letting her hands drop to her sides. Now when she looked at me, her face was etched with anger. “Stay the fuck away from them, Madeline. I mean it,” she snapped at me as a final warning.

Without waiting for an answer, she went over to her own bed. A dark charcoal gray cover overtop silk sheets she brought from Arizona. A headboard that was old and near deconstruction, and a bedpost covered in scarfs she’d picked up in Seattle. Pillows both feathery and colorless. Shades of black, gray, and white.

I watched through bleary eyes as she angrily under her covers.

_Goodnight, Bella, _I wanted to say. But this night would be anything but good.

Again I curled my body up and fell back into slumber, this time without the added hindrance of tear-stained cheeks.

_-_

I dreamt about monsters that night.

-

I was sure that Bella did too.

-

A/N: FINALLY, AMIRITE? I’m fucking back, baby, and ready for this semester to DIE ALREADY! Fuck this school and everyone who attends it. I’m failing my English class because of attendance and a lack of effort, so that’s awesome. Not to mention all my professors think I’m an idiot. I put all my mental effort into writing non-academic things so whoops.

Anywho, back to shit that actually matters. Are you guys liking the book? I know it seems slow-paced, and that’s because it’s supposed to be. I like building up to things and FUCK IF I DON’T LOVE CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT. My characters are meant to feel three-dimensional and human, regardless of whether they’re supernatural or not. You’re meant to relate to them and feel their pain on a personal level. I will be throwing in several OCs for the duration of this story and making different things AU as fuck. If you couldn’t already tell, I like crafting a narrative that’s same as the original and simultaneously hella different.

Do you guys like our newest character, Oliver? He’s Maddie’s boyfriend, who may or may not turn out to be a shapeshifter. He’s also an option for Maddie’s endgame romance. I love him to death not gonna lie, so if you don’t like him, FUCK U HE’S BABY.

I hate most clichés, so don’t expect Oliver to turn out to be a douche or for Maddie to be a cheat. If their relationship ends, it’s not going to be at the fault of either of them. And if they break up, they’ll still be best friends! Maddie’s the loml, ok? She’s not without her flaws obviously, but she’s the nicest OC I’ve ever made. All she wants to do is help others and explore the world.

Character development is on the horizon, boys.

ALSOOOOO, check out my Spotify (insubordinaught) for a playlist dedicated to Stardust, Volume I! On my profile it’s not hard to miss, and it has artists like Flyleaf, Skillet, Set It Off, and Muse. I listen to it while I’m writing for Stardust. It’s extremely chaotic but it’s all songs that relate to Maddie, Bella, Oliver & co, as well as the plot lines and themes.

Bye, guys. See u soon.


	3. Chapter III: Our doubts are traitors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why did I do wrong?

| STARDUST, VOLUME I |

Chapter III ; Our doubts are traitors

“Our doubts are traitors,  
and make us lose the good we oft  
might win, by fearing to attempt.”  
  
Measure for Measure | Act 1, Scene 4  
_William Shakespeare _

-

** THE NEXT WEEK WENT BY SLOWLY.**

Bella began avoiding me again. I woke up the morning after her first day at school thinking our talk the night before had maybe lessened her dislike for me. Stupid, really, to have thought that, as though her telling me I wasn’t her sister and calling me annoying was an instance to forget. Gullible me fell prey to optimism for the umpteenth time. Come talking to her after taking a quick shower and brushing my teeth, she wouldn’t even look at me. Every apology from me got a “go away” in return. Better than getting called names but that didn’t make the rejection hurt any less. She went around that morning getting dressed and packing her back with no more words to me. Stifling silence had never felt as suffocating as it did in that moment.

She must have really not liked my answers that night, or me as a general person.

She avoided the Cullens nearly as much as she did me, seeming to dislike the five of them just the same. Her avoidance of them seemed more personal. Maybe that was just the optimism talking. I heard from someone talking about my stepsister in Stats, about how Bella was partnered with Edward Cullen in Biology. The guy with a name I couldn’t remember said, like it was all some big funny secret, that her reaction to him was _anything_but nice: scooting her chair as far as it could go that first minute of class and ignoring him consciously from the start of class onwards. Whatever class activity they were working on she refused to speak to him and barely spared niceties to the teacher, Mr. Banner. I heard Edward would glare at her when her back was turned.

She was not the only one with a problem, it seemed.

After Bella’s first day, Edward disappeared. I’d pulled out my books and gotten out a pencil by the time Ms. Dyer began taking attendance and reached Edward’s name. She called it two or three times before anyone got the courage to announce he wasn’t in his seat. I remembered looking over at his usual seat and feeling strange, like his absence was important. Why wasn’t he there? Edward was just _gone_. He didn’t miss very much, either. For the period I zoned in and out of alertness, thinking about lunch and wondering if there was a chance the entire _Cullen_clan was missing too. Then lunchtime came and I saw them at their usual table after I got my plate. They were laughing and carrying on like their brother’s absence was nothing unusual. And maybe it wasn’t; I didn’t know them that well. I noticed, though, that come art class, Jasper and Alice seemed more subdued. More subdued than they normally were, anyway. I wanted to ask but I knew they wouldn’t answer. They didn’t know me and I barely knew them. Jasper kept looking at me strangely the whole time and after the bell rang, I realized it was because I stared at him like a psychopath throughout class. Then Alice was looking at me too, and I left the classroom feeling more anxious than how I first walked in.

I knew it was stupid to worry so much about something that had nothing to do with me. My thoughts were _rampant_with questions and regrets, betraying my inner nerves that felt like I’d get caught if I thought about other people and what went on in their lives. I was supposed to worry just about myself, yet I found myself caught in the crossfire of other people’s issues.

Bella became the centerpiece of everyone at Forks High’s existence. The boys loved her and they ate up her cutthroat attitude. The girls were scared of her, thinking she’d bite off their heads if they got too close. Mike had an obvious crush on her and it was grating Jessica’s nerves. Lauren wasn’t too keen on her either, probably because Tyler was also drooling over her. I usually found it hard to notice these kinds of things, but there was a jealousy going on even someone stoned could notice. Angela was indifferent and probably the only person Bella tolerated. Lauren and Jessica disliked the attention Bella was getting. Even if Bella hated the attention and had words to say if she was ever put on the spot, she was still receiving everyone’s wandering eye and I took the brunt of their inquisitions.

Even so people began to leave me alone after the first few days. They became interested in Bella and Bella only, taking their questions to the darling herself instead of her secretary. Lauren stopped even caring about me, the same going for anyone who perpetually had something to say to me that was nine times out of ten intended to be taken personal. I was just infamous Bella Swan’s passive stepsister to most. Word got around after Bella’s first day that we didn’t have the best relationship.

School was just one end of the story. A bad leg, really, but not even the worst on the body.

Things at home, with just me, Bella, and Dad, felt stunted. As awkward as to be expected when someone under the same roof had no heart in calling home “home_._” Bella had something on her chest and in her heart that was at war, and I knew it had something to do with why she was so angry. She wasn’t happy here and she would lock me out of the room at different times of the evening so she could “be alone,” and almost always I ended up begging Oliver to pick me up from the house so we could hang out or I’d request Dad when he wasn’t on duty to drive me over. Thankfully, whenever Bella was feeling especially unhappy, Oliver always had a scrimmage, a game, or a practice that I could “intrude” on.

Bella’s unhappiness took a toll on me and Dad, but mine was more obvious. I dealt with her ire the entire day, from dawn till dusk, and I had to rely on outside sources—namely Oliver, Jacob, and their friends—to have something to do other than overanalyzing Bella’s actions. Bella, of course, wasn’t just a leech; she eventually, save for days that she looked like she was bursting at the seams wanting to kill somebody, began integrating herself into society and stopped looking like she wanted to strangle everyone. She started cooking to pass the time, something I wished I could thank her for but I knew would only make her more determined to hate me and hate living here. I loved to cook, cooking and baking being passions of mine, but I’d gladly let Bella have the kitchen to herself if it made her happy too. I had more time in the mornings and it was no longer the weekends or every other evening I had the chance to hike and bask in nature. While she made breakfast in the mornings I’d go outside to just sit in the cold and watch the trees shake from a breeze, sometimes making tiny snowmen if weather permitted it. It snowed a lot and it rained a lot in Forks. Mostly rain—but there was one good snow day the week before Bella moved in and the weather forecast for Monday promised another snowfall.

I wanted to let her know it was a good luck omen saying her coming to live here was a positive thing, but she wouldn’t have liked that probably.

For that week after she came—or those five days, really, but they felt much longer—things moved at a pace akin to a worm wriggling in the rain. Then Sunday came, and it was 6 in the evening, and darkness was inevitably shadowing the outside world in black. I’d given my boyfriend a call about an hour ago. Oliver was already at the La Push High gym, practicing for his scrimmage at 7. And minutes before it was time to head out, Dad just had to be called into work.

I knew it didn’t eliminate my chances of going; there were other options. The only options I _liked_, though, were taken from me with that one phone call. Dad thought this was a good thing. 

I thought the complete opposite.

“Hey, Mads, I know you’d rather me or Oliver take you but there’s something at work I’ve got to take care of, okay?” Dad said quietly, the two of us nervously staring at Bella where she was getting ready to start dinner. She’d obviously seen our eyes rotate over to her, but she was so caught up in prepping a pasta dish she barely gave a reaction. “If she’s unable to take you, just tell Oliver it’s all my fault and I’ll even let him take you out someday this week past curfew to make up for it. Sound fair?”

I liked the sound of a “past curfew” date. But did it really have to come at the cost of an awkward evening spent with Bella making her disdain for me public?

I bit my lip. “Dad—"

“Where exactly and why exactly am I taking her?” Bella’s sudden intrusion into the conversation made my body convulse a little and made Dad look the other way and give a sharp “I’m-not-doing-anything-wrong” whistle. Traitor.

I was given the task of answering her. I looked over where she was, immediately looking back at the ground. _Oh God, she looks angry. I hope she doesn’t kill me. _“Oh, um… Oliver has a scrimmage at 7,” I said, risking another glance to see if she was still staring at me. Oh God_, she was_. She looked faintly angry for a moment, standing with a box of noodles in her hand.

Mentioning Oliver seemed to make her ire die out. She blinked the anger out of her eyes and asked, “Who’s Oliver?”

Oh. When I hesitated to answer, she stared harder, eyes drilling into my forehead.

Dad apparently wasn’t so concerned for his wellbeing now. He faced me so he could gawk too, a look of incredulity on his face. Oliver was all I ever talked about to him. He knew him and his family even before he’d adopted me. He’d thought of him like a son. Yet I hadn’t mentioned to Bella at all that I had a boyfriend… and she hadn’t questioned where I went in the evenings that she wanted to be left alone. I was never home when she came out and started a book on the couch so she had to have noticed I wasn’t _there. _She never asked though. I never told her anything that didn’t come before a question.

A communication issue, sure, but when did I ever have the time or the chance to tell her out of my own will? We’d both been busy avoiding the other, and I wasn’t exactly on Santa Swan’s nice list.

_You’re a bad sister, _I told myself. Self-critique was important_._

“Oliver’s my boyfriend,” I told Bella, chewing on the inside of my cheek.

Bella flashed her gaze from Dad and back over, her unreadability never fading, her eyes as intense as the furrow on her forehead. “Oh,” she said, lips barely moving. “Can’t you skip it?”

_No. _

I didn’t want to pick a fight. I was _much_too passive for it. “Um, I suppose…”

She stared. I stared back uneasily.

Bella rolled her eyes, walking a few steps and depositing her box of noodles onto the counter. “Dinner can wait, I guess,” she said. It was a little brusque, but it lacked the aggression I was accustomed to by now. “How long do these things last?”

Dad squeezed my shoulder and gave Bella a thankful, hesitant smile before he was rushing out of the house, throwing behind him a hasty “I love you girls; be safe!” that was returned in conscience only after the door slammed shut.

I was alone with Bella now and boy, the visible lack of Dad did nothing to help my nerves. Jeez, her frown. She could scare a grizzly bear with it. Running away sounded like the better, safer option right about now.

“They’re pretty short. An hour at the most,” I said, twiddling my fingers nervously. I wondered how she hadn’t noticed that I did my make-up and hair nice, donning a jersey with Oliver’s number on the back and a pair of nice corduroy pants. I pinched a piece of the fabric between my fingers, indicating the red wash on my jersey. “It’s red versus white tonight. Varsity and JV. Oliver’s on Varsity.”

I couldn’t help the pride in my voice. I was proud of Oliver and would gush about him any chance I got, even to people who would rather gouge out their eyeballs than give me the time of day.

Bella didn’t look like she particularly cared, as expected. “What a man,” she deadpanned. No derision, though.

_Hey, that’s a start!_

I smiled happily to myself, thinking about my boyfriend and how talented he was. A guy who sacrificed more than most teenagers did by his age. Other people always came before him, yet his work ethic was still pristine, his record still clean. I could never understand why he was with me when he could get any girl he wanted, honestly. I was thankful and I appreciated him more than anything, but that didn’t change the obvious: _he could do much, much better_. “I like to think so,” I said.

The hard lines in Bella’s face stayed wrinkled but I detected a bit of softening. “I’ll go get my keys,” she said, looking away so I couldn’t read her face. She jerked a finger behind her shoulder towards the cooktop. “Just turn everything off and we can go as soon as I’m back.”

I nodded. She returned a tight-lipped smile. She was leaving before I could ask her if she really was okay with driving me to the reserve.

_Drat, _I thought glumly.

In her absence, I turned off knobs until the cooktop’s heating unit was completely turned off. I took the pot of boiling water off the top and placed it on the counter. I put all the ingredients she had out back into their respective cabinets and nooks within the fridge, taking great caution to avoid dropping or spilling anything.

Bella was trudging back into the kitchen by the time I finished. 

“Let’s go,” she said, flicking the kitchen lights off. Everywhere else in the house was already drenched in darkness.

I followed her outside wordlessly, locking the door behind me.

-

We got to La Push High’s parking lot without much commotion. Bella didn’t feel like talking and I was lost in my thoughts; this equated a very quiet, very tense drive. The only times we spoke were when she asked for directions and I gave them to her. Otherwise things felt stilted and I felt like opening the truck door and escaping while I still could. Thankfully La Push High wasn’t too far from Forks and Bella didn’t care much about speed limits. We got there in less than twenty minutes to see the lot nearly deserted.

Bella looked at me, a question in her eyes.

“It’s not even six thirty yet,” I said, shimmying out of my seatbelt. “The game doesn’t start till seven! Oli’s practicing right now.”

I got out of the truck with little difficulty and moved to shut the door behind me. However I froze at seeing Bella not making any of the same motions to join me.

Her gaze narrowed into a glare when I popped my head back into the truck.

“Aren’t you coming?” I asked, clueless to what she could have possibly intended doing otherwise. “Not too many people come to the scrimmages so there won’t be some big crowd you have to worry about—"

“I’m not going in,” Bella said firmly.

_You’re not? _

My jaw fell loose, mouth popping open into a little round “o.” I had to admit I should have expected this; Dad was the same most of the time, depositing me at the steps leading into the school entranceway and picking me up after the game. Sometimes Oliver took me home but usually he was too sweaty and smelly to endure in a car ride. I, for some unfathomable reason, thought Bella would be different.

“Oh… sorry, I just thought you’d want to stay,” I said hesitantly. Bella blinked more profusely than was considered normal. “I was… I don’t know. We haven’t gotten to talk much. That doesn’t matter, though. I know you didn’t want to do this in the first place and I’m happy you did, but I—sorry. I’ll leave you alone.”

Bella was silent up until I made it clear I’d depart and forget I asked such a stupid, humiliating question, body already moving to fulfill my apparent destiny.

“Madeline, wait,” she said frustratedly.

I froze. I looked over at her, a shard of loose caramel brown hair falling into my eyes.

She was turning the ignition off before I had any chance to respond, looking, for all intents and purposes, resigned.

I shook my head, swallowing down my hope.

“No, Bella, you _really_don’t have to,” I protested.

I didn’t want her to feel like I was pressuring her into doing something _I _wanted. We already weren’t on the best of terms. I’d gone through multiple stages, from angry to frustrated and upset to sad, in her time at the house and still I wasn’t sure what to think. I didn’t know the best approach. Being on her welcoming committee hadn’t done me any favors and avoiding her was like trying to avoid the sun; you really couldn’t when you had to live with it.

Bella threw open her side of the truck and got out, letting the door slam behind her. “I know I don’t,” she said, coming around the front. She had her key ring spinning around on her pointer finger. “I’ve got nothing better to do anyways.”

I gave her a tentative smile that she didn’t return and mutely led her to the school entranceway.

It took no time at all to find the gym and when we got to the doors a few La Push High teachers were set up by a table, doing a fundraiser for a charity one of the teachers started up for impoverished families in need When I ventured up, a stoic Bella by my side, Mrs. Vandel—Oliver’s Calculus teacher—gave me a wide smile.

“Well _hi_there, Maddie. Here to watch Oliver, I assume?” she asked me in a teasing voice, taking the ten dollar bill I fished out of my pants pocket to hand to her. Her face instantly lit up. “Why thank you! Such a darling.”

I smiled shyly, face heating up. “You’re welcome. Yeah, I’m here for Oliver… with my sister!” I said and nodded over at Bella. Bella threw up a short wave that Mrs. Vandel returned enthusiastically.

“Well, thank you very much for the donation. Have a good time, girls,” she said to us. She gave another happy wave on our way through the gym doors.

Bella followed me silently. She seemed to be watching my closely. She inspected my profile without saying anything while I waved at Oliver and his two friends, James and Elliot, where they were sitting on one of the bleachers sharing a bottle of red Gatorade. Apparently they’d finished practicing and were just chilling until the pre-game warm-up. Oli’s toothy grin and happy wave made my worries disappear momentarily. After the feeling evaporated, I led Bella over to a staircase leading up to the Side E bleachers. We walked up and situated ourselves on the bleacher closest to the floor.

She turned to me with slight interest on her face as I readjusted Oliver’s jersey, fiddling with the strap-like detail. “Was that your boyfriend?” she asked.

I nodded. “Yeah, that’s Oliver. Oliver Shaw. We’ve been friends for _years. _We just started dating last summer,” I said with a loopy smile on my face.

Bella nodded, looking less interested but still like she wanted to ask more. “How old is he?”

“He’s seventeen. He’ll be turning eighteen this Friday,” I told her, looking back out across the floor to where he sat goofing off with his friends. He was trying to balance the half-empty bottle of Gatorade on his forehead. James and Elliot were cheering him on like the good friends they were to him.

“You’re sixteen,” Bella stated.

“Yes, why?”

“Nothing,” she said, shaking her head. “He’s nearly two years older than you.”

I smiled weakly, pushing all thoughts about where he’d be in the next year out of my head_. _

_He’ll forget all about you in college._

“I met him when I was eight and over at Billy Black’s house for the first time,” I explained. “He was there with his Dad. They were getting ready to head out to some bonfire thing. Dad had just gotten the adoption papers finalized so he was bringing me around to meet everyone.”

Bella nodded slowly. “You met Jacob, too?”

“He’s another one of our friends,” I said. “My _best_friend, actually. We were really great friends growing up but Oliver doesn’t hang out with us as much. He’s too busy with basketball and helping his Dad out at the lumber park.”

This was the most civil conversation we’d had, and she hadn’t tried biting my head off once. It was weird, but I loved it. I prayed really, _really_hard it’d stay that way between us. I hadn’t talked and been able to just let everything out to anyone in ages. When Dad first talked about Bella I got excited thinking I’d finally have someone around the house who wouldn’t cringe away from talking about things that mattered to us both. Bella’s arrival sorely disappointed me but I was slowly getting my hopes back up.

“Don’t you have any friends in Forks?” asked Bella, looking like she thought nothing of the question. It was nonchalant, said out of polite curiosity and nothing else.

It was not something I wanted her to ask, though. At all.

“Well, I…” I trailed off, feeling a ball well up in my throat. I took a moment, sneaking a glance up at Bella through my shield of hair to see if she’d noticed the hold-up. She obviously had and she seemed very cautious; I took that as her thinking I’d done something inherently wrong to only have had reserve friends. “I don’t click with them well. I think Lauren hates me.”

Bella threw a glance my way. “They’re superficial anyway. You shouldn’t want to be their friend.”

It was the oddest form of comfort I’d ever been on the receiving end of in my life.

Not everyone at Forks was superficial. Having no friends was at the fault of my own personality, really. Nobody wanted to be friends with a girl who was poor at holding conversations and barely had a functioning personality. Bella just didn’t know any of that yet. She was still the inexperienced newcomer masquerading as an expert. 

I transfixed my gaze back on the basketball court. Coach Kensky was ushering the Varsity boys out of the hallway that led to their locker room, giving Oliver a harsh shake when he came running out. I watched them share a few words. The “whites” team, Junior Varsity, was concurrently coming out at the opposite end from the visiting-team locker room. Oliver gave Coach K a self-assured grin and said something I didn’t hear. Coach K just shook his head and let Oliver run off to join the warm-up.

Throughout Bella and I talking more people had shown up. There wasn’t anybody sitting near us but the section of bleachers vertical from us had a bunch of girls who attended La Push High that weren’t here when we first arrived. They’d come to watch the boys and potentially score their attention, I wagered, having been here multiple times before.

No one really came to these “games” unless they liked one of the players or were overly supportive friends, SOs, or parents.

A scrimmage wasn’t a real game. It was just a practice where scores were taken and everyone played to win while still having fun. Oli said this particular practice was for Coach K to weed out potential in JV members and see what needed to be critiqued and worked on with any of the Varsity boys before the upcoming region tournament. He was confident that he wouldn’t be one of them.

I looked over at Bella. She was observing the court same as me and her eyes were impassive and hard to read.

“The game won’t be too long,” I assured her with a weak smile. “It’s just a scrimmage.”

-

Unfortunately for Bella the scrimmage ended up exceeding what was usual by twenty minutes. Varsity ended up winning by twenty points and I was a proud girlfriend acting like a mother, the only one clapping and cheering for him. The girls on the other side gave me death glares that eventually subsided when they realized who I was. Everyone around here knew Oliver was taken. I attended _all_of his practices. Even when I was just his friend and not his girlfriend I was going to every single one. Oliver wasn’t the heartthrob of the team, anyway; that was James. James was their star point guard and as funny and smart as he was handsome. He just lacked common sense.

Oliver was, of course, the handsomest guy from the team to me. He had black hair with a top always flopping into his eyes. Two hazel eyes that were sometimes green and sometimes brown. Tan skin that felt warm to the touch even in the winter and a wiry frame that felt nice to be hugged into.

After the scrimmage I led Bella back the way we came, giving Mrs. Vandel a goodbye wave. She gave me a half-confused, half-angry glare when I stopped at the steps and quit walking. The glare morphed in a dawn of understanding when a sweaty, panting Oli came clambering out of the doors, still donning his red jersey, red shorts, and dirty white Nike’s.

“Hey, sorry,” he said to me, brushing his sweat-drenched hair back from his face. _You will smell just like him if you hug him, _I warned myself but inevitably found myself ignoring it, rushing up to Oli so he could wrap me in a hug. “Ew, youstink. I thought I was the unhygienic one.”

I let out a quiet giggle, smacking him in the chest with my fist. “That’s you you’re smelling, idiot,” I told him before a fat smile stretched my lips wide. “You did awesome.”

Oliver grinned back. “Thanks, Mads. I have my cute little personal cheerleader to give all my thanks and gratitude to,” he said teasingly, pressing a _muah_!-type kiss to each cheek. “I’ll give you the information for my next game when I get it. The weather has everything out-of-town getting cancelled. You’re first on my call list.”

Bella made a coughing sound from the pillars next to me.

We had to leave.

I pulled away from Oliver and took my arms with me, as grudging as I was to do so. “I have to get home so just call me when you can, okay?” I told him, nervous he’d think I was blowing our moment off. “You were great, you guys are going to do awesome in your real games. I don’t have anything with me now but—you know I love and support you, right? I’ll try and get you something really nice for your next game—”

He put a hand over my mouth.

“We all know you’re spending enough as it is on a birthday gift for me so _no, _Mads, _no, _no more spending,” Oliver said, looking over at Bella to flash her a charismatic grin. She wasn’t too impressed. “We’ll talk later but the boys want to go out for pizza, so…”

He removed his hand and I hydrated my lips by wiping my tongue across them.

Hurt for reasons beyond me, I felt like I needed to vacuum my ability to feel out of my body. I shooed Oliver off. “Oh… oh, okay. Well, I hope you have fun. You will, won’t you? Just—stay safe for me. Love you,” I said to him.

We’d been friends for years, lovers for less than an eighth of that, yet here I was acting like he was a stranger. Nerves getting the best of a conversation that should have felt _easy. _

Oliver knew all about the trouble I had and he now knew it was better to just leave me to it.

He gave me a full-hand salute. “Love you too, Mads. Bye!” He stole another kiss and was rushing off the way he’d come from before I could say anything else, presumably to where James and Elliot were lingering.

Bella was silent for a very long time thereafter, even after I turned to her and we started walking back to the truck. I broke it just when I was buckling back in. “Sorry,” I apologized. “We always say goodbye after he gets done.”

“I’m not mad,” Bella said simply. “Just tired.”

It was barely after eight but I didn’t comment on her obvious lie.

She turned her truck on, it sputtering and roaring to life in one swift motion. We tore right out of the parking lot.

After a severe minute spent thinking back on what I could have possibly done to upset her, I gained back a piece of my squat confidence. “Bella…” I said quietly. I waited for her to glance over, splitting her attention between me and the road. “Why do you hate me?”

For a long time thereafter, she said nothing. She sharply looked away and I noticed her tighten her grip on the wheel. I was staggering at the strain that entered the air. The question was not something I ever thought I’d ask someone. I usually just let everyone dislike me for their own personal reasons and let my personal benefit be that I didn’t know; not knowing was better than knowing and wishing you could alter the truth.

Finally she exhaled noisily and said, “I don’t _hate_you, Madeline.”

I was stunned. That was nothing like I was expecting to leave her mouth. I straightened up in my seat and gripped the cushion, feeling like the already short distance between us had gotten even smaller. There was just the middle seat separating us; we were close, closer than I realized when I first got in, and now it felt like all I could completely focus on.

I swallowed. “But I thought—” I quit speaking, feeling like whatever was going to come out of my mouth was ridiculous and a fast ticket to losing whatever connection we had now. There was still this burning need to explain, though, the urge to let out what had been enacting mayhem in my mind from last week till now. “You, you acted like you couldn’t stand me. You said we weren’t sisters, you bumped my shoulder, you kept getting mad and locking me _out_. I- I don’t understand.”

Bella breathed in and out. She kept breathing, taking these deep inhales that came out like angry huffs. She met my gaze through her turned profile. The look on her face was more vulnerable than I’d ever seen it. I felt, in abrupt, violent fashion, like I was intruding on something private. I knew from yesterday there had to be something that made her this way. It was a thought always there in my head, pushed off to the side by more-urgent, present-time reactions to her glares and hateful words. The _why_wasn’t important. The way her words made me _feel_was all that mattered in the moment.

Bella, who I knew to be emotionally invincible, looked like she was in pain.

“I know—_knew _someone just like you,” she said to me. It sounded like it took all her effort to spit out. She took an awful long time to even respond. It made me realize this was a matter entirely personal to her, something she was taking a risk in disclosing to _me_. All those questions I had about her were front and center in my head. “He was good. He was always trying to do what he could for others and nothing for himself. He threw his life away for people who didn’t fucking deserve it. He didn’t see the bad in people. I cared about him.

“You’re just as fucking stupid, just as clueless, as he was. I won’t try protecting you. If you get mixed up in the wrong crowd you’re on your own. He fucked himself over. You can do the same for yourself. Fish yourself out too.”

Bella didn’t look at me the entire time she spoke. The words felt like needles. Her behavior became clearer than ever to me. She cared about someone and something happened to him and now she was torn up over it and I was sitting here making things about myself. I wasn’t part of the big picture; I was just the observer. All that mattered was her, her feelings, the person she lost. 

But she mentioned how I reminded her of him. Stupid and clueless. A wrong crowd. Something happening that would never be taken back, if I was interpreting her correctly.

“Bella,” I said, finding it in me to respond to her confession. She gave a tilt of her head; _I’m listening. _“What do you mean by ‘wrong crowd’?”

I heard her fingers dig deeply into the wheel. She hissed through her teeth.

“Those _fucking_Cullens,” she growled, the truck speeding up to the tick-ticking of her anger.

Huh?

_What do the Cullens have to do with this?_

I hadn’t thought about them since we left for the game. Frankly I’d forgotten they existed for the last few hours. Hearing Bella speak out their surname with such venom I was caught off guard. I blinked over at her, bemused.

What did they do to make her sound like that?

The Cullens seemed like good people. I couldn’t imagine them being on the dark side of a war, let alone converting someone the same as them.

But Bella’s broken, angry face made me reconsider what I thought. Maybe what I saw and thought were completely different from the hard truth.

-

We didn’t talk the rest of the night, but Bella was generous enough to let me stay in the room while she wrote in her journal.

There was progress there, but it didn’t feel like much.

-

After an eventful Sunday, I decided to go for a morning stroll. Bella’s generosity extended into the early hours and she asked me what I’d like for breakfast when I walked into the kitchen, rubbing at my eyes. I told her some bacon and eggs would be nice, she nodded and set to work, I felt pretty good—and ultimately I got my best mountaineering attire on, tied my hair up into a bun, and left the house underneath a dark and eerie sky.

I came back twenty minutes later, reeking of woodland musk and my boots covered in mud.

Bella already had a plate for me sitting at the table. Dad was getting a cup of black coffee when I trudged back into the house.

“That was quick,” he said, eying me in my nasty glory. I gave him a sheepish frown and reached down to untie my boots, taking them off and tossing them back outside. “You usually spend an hour.”

“School,” I reminded him, walking over to the side of the table my plate was at. I sat down and dug in. There was buttered toast on the plate. I hadn’t asked for it. My eyes traveled over to Bella, managing a bright smile when she looked back over. “Thanks!”

She nodded her welcome and brought a plate of goods for herself over to the table.

“Well, I won’t be back until late so you girls be safe, okay? I’d hate to have either of you come into the station,” Dad said, not even trying to be subtle when he looked over at me. I wasn’t the one out of us most likely to get into trouble so I didn’t react.

He was just protective and thought I was more likely to walk myself into a bad situation and stay there.

_He’s not wrong. _

I shoveled more eggs into my mouth. Bella was dragging her fork across her plate, looking like she was trying to perform surgery on a piece of bacon.

“Bye Dad, love you,” I told him, preening when he gave my messily-thrown-together ponytail a good ruffle. 

Bella barely looked over. “Bye, Dad.”

_Did she just call him “Dad?” What._

Dad walked out of the door, giving the kitchen one last glance. We heard his cruiser turn on and spill out of the yard.

Bella was taking me to school today, surprisingly. It really did seem like we were getting along and I had so many questions. I wanted to know what was wrong. I wanted to know why she was so angry. If someone she loved and cared about was hurt, that surely explained the cynicism but even losing someone wouldn’t cause the hateful attitude Bella had.

Unless the worst had happened and the person she cared about _died. _

After finishing breakfast, I went upstairs to get dressed in suitable clothes for school. Bella was cleaning up the kitchen from cooking breakfast. I came upstairs to our bedroom to make myself more presentable. I applied some quick mascara and lip-gloss, taking my hair down so it’d be left natural. Some off-white sneakers, a thick green sweater, and some blue-jean Levi’s felt like the only thing I’d feel comfortable wearing so I didn’t even bother second-guessing myself in the mirror.

I was alone right now…

I looked over at Bella’s side of the room. There was something over there that potentially had all the answers she wouldn’t give me. If that were the case I wanted to find out. She had a secret that was causing strife between us and if unburdening her could better our connection and make her feel more comfortable I wanted to find out. It felt like a moment last night. She told me something intimate. There was no reason to tell me, no reason to humor me when I asked her why she hated me, but she did. She’d gone from ice-cold to lukewarm. She went from bumping my shoulder and letting high school assholes walk over me to acting like she was sorry for how she acted and willing to give me answers to anything I asked.

There had to be a reason for that. The change. No one could find it in them to forgive someone for nothing when anger was absolutely unfair in the first place, unless _something happened. _Something happened for a change in heart.

The thing was, though—what could it be?

-

Halfway through the day lunchtime finally arrived and I was able to take a breather. I was bemused and rendered speechless upon walking into English and seeing Edward there, but I just sat down and didn’t say a word. He was staring at me, though… awful hard. Did he know I was feverishly thinking about him in my thoughts?

Jessica hadn’t left me alone in Chemistry, badgering me with notes that asked about my sister’s unwarranted attitude. The early parts of the morning didn’t exactly give much room for a breather either, with Tyler and Eric accosting me with their own questions. It was strange. They hadn’t cared after the first few days of Bella attending Forks but apparently the weekend had hit them like a truck, giving me confidence that I’d come bearing everything they needed to know. I thought Mike was the one with a huge, sickening crush on her, not Tyler or Eric. They seemed way too interested to just be innocently asking as friends, however.

I told them only what I thought Bella would want them knowing: the weekend was uneventful and we didn’t exactly talk much. She sat in her room writing and I went to La Push

A big fat lie, but not one they’d ever find out. We’d talked plenty yesterday and I felt lighter than silk thinking Bella and I were on the path of reaching a fine sibling understanding. Still, her past words stayed there in my head. She said we weren’t sisters. Maybe she just said that to hurt me but there was also a good possibility she said that because she meant it, too. I didn’t know what went on inside her head. Maybe Bella’s explanation yesterday was just a kind lie so I’d stay blissfully ignorant to her ugly truth. I couldn’t really see her taking such an effort to give me that security. She’d been so ruthless her first days here that a strange deviation from ruthless to kind wasn’t the alternative approach I ever saw her doing. Last night I thought about all the different things she could have said when I asked her why she hated me and acting like she didn’t hate me at all was a one in a million chance. 

Monday at school was strangely filled with a sense of normalcy. There was a dread, too. The first half of the day went by as easily as any average day aside from Edward Cullen’s abrupt return to school. It was snowing and everyone was pelting their friends with snowballs. Snowball snipers, really. I, as someone who didn’t have any friends, found myself severely lacking in sludge-filled hair and a soaked backside.

I didn’t think about much of anything, clearing my mind so I’d be a calmer version of myself, until lunchtime rolled around. I came into the large-scale room not expecting a bombshell, finding myself rather startled to see that Edward was with his sibling entourage at his usual table and he was staring at my stepsister.

The bronze-haired teen was glaring over at the middle table where Bella was sitting, surrounded by her admirers and the girls who decided to follow like birds. His siblings seemed to think entirely nothing of it, absorbed in flitting chats with each other.

Bella hated Lauren and her friends, save for Angela. She was able to tolerate Tyler and Eric. She thought Mike was nauseating. I found out this all from observing and hearing her say it to their faces. It was baffling that the boys continued to flock around her and the girls tried desperately to be her friends, save Lauren who wanted the school’s exclusive attention back.

I really, really didn’t want to go near them—Who would?—but Bella was in a furious glaring contest with Edward and I had to admit, I was curious. Lauren was whispering to Jessica, glaring over at Bella, and the boys were all trying hard to get Bella’s attention. For a half second I thought maybe this indicated that something buried underneath, that I was not privy to, was happening but that went away as fast as it came. I was walking over to them before I could stop myself.

Lauren must have sensed my presence because she looked up and gave me a death glare. Jessica did the same and so did Mike. I ignored them, coming to hover behind Bella.

“Bella,” I said quietly. Nearly everyone, having never given me the time of day positively and definitely not starting now, had their respective glares and stares trained on me now. Bella snapped her deadly gaze away from Edward.

“_What_?”

“Can we… talk?” I asked.

Mike snorted. Eric hit him in the back.

Bella blinked her eyes dubiously. I noticed out of the corner of my eye Edward looking at _me _now and so was all of his siblings. I felt anxious under his gaze and wanted to throw up, thinking whatever antipathy Bella carried made it appear like I was the same way.

I had to look away before I turned to sand under their scrutiny.

“Please,” I said desperately.

Bella kept looking over at them, this intense hatred in her eyes. “I don’t want to talk to you,” she said, gritting out her words. They had to be targeting something, said with such force. Even I took the tone out of context and felt like they were intended for _me_, puncturing _me_.

But she was looking somewhere different than my eyes.

Again, like a squirrel would underneath flashing headlights, I couldn’t help myself in looking certain doom in the face. I glanced back over at the Cullen family’s table.

Edward was gripping the table and his siblings didn’t look very soothed. If I wanted to hazard a crazy, out-there guess, it felt like they _heard _Bella. They assumed she was speaking like they were sat right next to her and not the popular crew she was stuck with. They were staring at her because they didn’t like her tone.

But that was impossible. They were just human.

I smiled nervously. “Then go talk to them.”

The way Bella turned to me was quicker than the time I had to bat an eyelash and her thunderous expression matched the thunderous way with which she stood up. “You’re as fucking clueless as them,” she barked, throwing out her arm to the table. My grip on the soda I had in my hand faltered and I nearly dropped it. “I’d rather drop dead.” 

She may have expected us all to stand in shock while she made her harsh, quick-stepped exit. She wasn’t thinking I’d recover in seconds and follow right after her.

“Bella, Bella!” I panted, catching up to her as we left the cafeteria. She didn’t slow when I spoke. I took that to mean she was still seething. “Bella, why did you run off?”

Bella eventually stopped when we got to the next hallway over and she turned to me, unveiling the twisted face she was making. It was the exact face I would make if I was about to shout from pain.

“Bella, if you really hate them, you shouldn’t be acting like you do around Lauren and her friends,” I offered, the blood pumping in my legs a bit harder than normal. “Lauren won’t admit it, but she worships them… All the girls do, really. The boys think Rosalie’s really pretty. If you go around professing how much you hate them, then—”

“If you knew the reason you wouldn’t _say_that—” Bella started before she was violently shaking her head and cutting herself off; “What am I saying? _Of course_you would. You don’t hate anyone.”

“You kinda seem like you want to kill them,” I said uncertainly.

Bella scoffed and muttered something under her breath that I couldn’t hear.

“What?” I frowned.

She scowled. “Nothing. Madeline, I told you to stay away from them. I _know_how they are. Good, innocent people come to them and they rip them to shreds. Do you want that to happen?”

“Well.. n-no,” I said, not liking the image she put in my head, “but I can’t see what makes them so bad. You don’t _know__them _know them_,_do you?”

Bella stared, the answer obvious in her eyes. She didn’t.

“You know people _like_them,” I said, just guessing.

Her jaw went tense a little.

My frown deepened until my teeth were clenched behind my mouth. “How?”

I saw Bella look past me, sudden fury igniting her expression. _What—is there something behind me? _Panic swirled around inside my stomach. I whipped around to see what monster was encroaching.

Edward Cullen was walking briskly towards us, heat in his own gaze.

The panic in my stomach subsided only a little. I was still a little scared, a little nervous about what his intentions were.

I heard Bella move behind me. “Go eat lunch, Madeline,” she hissed.

I changed directions enough that I got whiplash. From Bella to Edward and back again, a cycle that could make anyone sick. I eventually stuck on Bella. “But—"

“Go!” she said so loudly and angrily it came out like a snarl.

I flinched back. I turned around in the direction of the cafeteria, my heart basically stopping as I faced Edward. This was the first time I ever came so close to him. His hair was bronze and unruly, sticking in different curled directions on top of his head. His face and what was exposed of his body were porcelain white, a shade of pale I never thought possible for anyone, let alone someone so unearthly beautiful. His eyes were the most unsettling thing about his appearance, discounting his skin tone. I could have sworn he and his entire family had eyes that were varying shades of brown.

His eyes _now_were swollen black.

My flinch for this observation was much more obvious than the one in reaction to Bella’s tone. I let out a gasp.

Those black, vicious eyes were trained on me, not Bella. Wanting me to move out of the way of his target—that’s all that sounded right, logical. I scurried around him, nearly dropping my soda in my haste to leave.

Edward didn’t look very human. Not with black eyes and that hideous snarl. How someone so beautiful could look so _ugly, _it wasn’t something easily understandable. Not at all.

I claimed to Bella that night that they were _just people. _But she called them monsters.

Monsters.

Bella said the Cullens were monsters. She acted like she knew them in a way that hinted they had a _kind_. Like humans weren’t a whole and there were different types except this didn’t feel very human.

If I asked him or Bella, they’d probably say it was contacts. Imply that the snarl was because Bella’s glare provoked him. Say I was paranoid and coming to conclusions way faster than I should.

That couldn’t be, though. Monsters were _real _but I thought they were human or entirely, utterly different from humans. Not _derived. _

I wondered this entire time what she could mean by monsters. I was oblivious but not so much that putting together the puzzle pieces was a boggling task.

_Black eyes. They look too beautiful to be real. They’re outsiders. They still look the same from when they moved here two years ago. Their Dad is just as beautiful. This can’t be coincidence. _

They weren’t human. They _couldn’t_be. Bella wasn’t outright telling me her version of the truth but I was intelligible enough to connect the blueprint she’d laid out unknowingly for me. Everything she said had clarity now. I didn’t know the Cullens at all but there had always been something about them that no one could explain.

And perhaps something—_someone_—like that was what hurt Bella’s friend and made her the ticking time bomb that now lived under the same roof as me.

The bad thing was I couldn’t ask her. I couldn’t do my own research on the junky old computer we shared in the house. There was no possible way of confirming what I thought. Going to the Cullens themselves seemed like a potential suicide.

_They aren’t like you or me, are they, Bella?_

I couldn’t tell her she’d spelled this out to me.

Then I’d be sucked into the same potential unwitting Hell she just dragged herself into.

-

_A/N: If you couldn’t tell by how this chapter ended, THIS BOOK IS AN AU! ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE! Canon characters are purposefully OOC, events happen different than they do in the books or the movies, my OC will have actual impact on the story, etc. The thing Bella muttered around the end of the chapter was, “Killing’s in their nature, not mine.” I’m sure by now you’ve caught on that Bella already knows about vampires (well duh). Question is, what happened to make her as hateful as she is? _

_ Yes Maddie’s started seeing things different quickly. What did you expect from Bella being completely obvious about it? It’s just chapter three… I know. But really, anyone would have their speculations with all the clues thrown in her face. She’s not an idiot. She’s gullible and completely indecisive but brain-dead? Nah. I’m extremely paranoid so I’d be running through every creature I could think of in her situation tbh_

_ Side note - <strike>Bella’s character in the movies is dull and she’s super basic in the books so here I am making her sPicY she isn’t staying bitchy so don’t sweat it if you hate her right now that’s just part of her character development ayeeee. Also have you noticed when Bella and Edward talk in the books after he comes back from sulking that Stephenie BASICALLY PULLS A “not like other girls” thing? Bella’s quirky af guys</strike>_

_ By next chapter I need to know who the endgame love interest is so I can either plan the romance integration into the plot or see what my plans for the future need to include. Remember, Paul and Carlisle are negatives. I would also rather _not _do Aro, Marcus, or Caius. Anyone else is free fuckin’ game! Give me your ideas :D_

_ Sorry for taking over six months to update, won’t happen again I swear_

_ As always GIVE A KUDOS AND COMMENT ily guys BYEE_


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